World Class
by Jasmine2009
Summary: When Tony's DNA puts him at the scene of a crime, he uncovers a truth about his past that he may not want to know. Kind of a different take on Tony's heritage. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Title: World Class  
Author: Jasmine  
Universe: NCIS Season 7  
Rated: PG13  
Date: June 28, 2012  
Summary: When Tony's DNA puts him at the scene of a crime, he uncovers a truth about his past that he may not want to know.

Chapter 1

FBI Federal Agents Tobias Fornell and Ron Sacks stepped off the elevator. "Remember," Fornell mumbled to his subordinate, "let me handle this."

"As long as I get to cuff him, I won't say a word."

Sacks was one of the FBI's rising stars, but he could be an arrogant SOB when he wanted, and since his first encounter with DiNozzo four years ago, Sacks has held a strong dislike for the man. Fornell suspected it was mutual, but their relationship was the least of his concerns. Gibbs was dominating his thoughts at the moment. Go after one of Gibbs' people, especially this one, and he becomes a formidable force to reckon with.

"Oh boy!" Tony said upon seeing them entering his work space. "If it isn't the great Fornell of Oz and his munchkin, Slacks."

Ziva couldn't suppress her smile and excitedly replied, "I know that movie reference. It's a classic."

"Yes it is, Ziva, not like our guests, here, who are more or less forgettable."

Unlike Sacks, Fornell appreciated the likes of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. He could put up with his antics because he knew when it came time to getting the job done, there was no better investigator. And on those rare occasions when Gibbs would actually offer some insight into his team, he would drop nuggets of gold about DiNozzo's investigative prowess that made him a tad bit jealous. "Let it go, Sacks," Fornell whispered.

Gibbs watched as his counterpart approached his desk and offered his usual one word greeting.

"Gibbs."

"Fornell," he replied. He was in a particularly good mood after having wrapped up a not too heinous crime involving two dirtball drug dealers mistakenly killing each other. "What brings you to NCIS?"

"A case we're working."

"And you need our help?" Gibbs asked as if there was no way he was going to lend it.

"Not exactly. I need to question one of your people."

Gibbs thought about all the people that Fornell could want to question and only one person stood out in his mind. His eyes slowly landed on his senior field agent, as did Ziva's and McGee's.

"Hey! Now wait just a minute," Tony said. "Why do you automatically look at me when he says they have to question someone?"

McGee delighted in being able to answer, "Because of all the members of Team Gibbs, Tony, you're the only one who might have screwed up."

"I resent that, Probie! I haven't screwed up… at least I don't think I have. Anyway, you're jumping the gun. We don't even know if it's me he wants to question." He wasn't sure what he expected, but he didn't expect to have all eyes, including Sacks and Fornell, bearing down on him. "What'd I do?"

Sacks smirked and asked, "Where were you on June 8th?"

Tony was trying to process that he was actually being asked to supply an alibi, again. "What?"

"What's this about, Fornell?" Gibbs asked, getting up from of his chair.

He held out the file he'd been carrying and said, "We have DNA evidence that puts DiNozzo at the scene of an international jewelry heist."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I were."

Chapter 2

Fornell and Gibbs stood in the darkened room observing an agitated federal agent through the glass, and they weren't referring to DiNozzo. Gibbs finally commented, "You can't really believe he did it."

"I leave the speculating to the lawyers."

"An eighty percent match? That's all you got?"

"For the time being. And for the record, it's eighty-four. You know it's good enough to bring him in for questioning and possibly detainment."

"I hope you don't mind but I'm having Abby double check your forensics."

"I'd be insulted if you didn't. I'd like to be wrong on this one, Jethro, but I already had my people double and triple check it."

Sacks sat across from his suspect, wishing he were back in his own interrogation room at the FBI building, but Fornell agreed to do this here so he grudgingly obliged. "You haven't answered my question, Agent DiNozzo. Where were you on the afternoon of June the 8th?"

"What day of the week was that again?"

"Wednesday."

"Well, I was most likely here, working. That's what I do five to seven days a week."

Sacks flipped through several pages of notes and pulled out a piece of paper, "Didn't you take the afternoon off that day?"

He thought back, '_Was that the day he met Cindy, or was it Brianne?_'

Sacks slid a piece of paper across the table and said, "Isn't that your leave slip taking the afternoon of June the 8th off?"

'_Damn_,' he thought. "Yes, that is. But I have a reason for taking it off. I went to the dentist."

Sacks stared at him.

"Okay, I went out with a dentist."

He raised his eye brows.

"Okay! I went out with a dental hygienist, but I have leave coming and with Gibbs, it's a use it or lose it proposition, so I used it."

"To meet up with a lady?"

"Not just a lady, Slacks. By day, she's a dental professional, and by night, she's a cheerleader for the Baltimore Ravens football team."

'_Figures_,' he thought, feeling a pang of jealousy. "Does this lady have a name?"

"Brianne Wolfe"

"Where'd you two go?"

"Oh, well, that's personal, unless," he leaned forward, "you get off on listening to the details."

Gibbs couldn't help but smile at the way Tony guided the interrogation. He had a knack for pissing people off and he especially delighted in pissing off people like Agent Sacks.

Fornell said, "I wish your boy would go easy on my boy."

"He's just getting started."

"That's what worries me."

Sacks contained his frustration and repeated, "Where'd you go with Ms. Wolfe?"

Tony thought about his answer and knew it wasn't a good one, at least not when it came to supplying an alibi. "We went back to my place."

"And what did you do?"

Now Tony stared. There were so many comebacks to that question that choosing the right one was proving difficult. "Is your personal life really so lacking that you want a blow by blow accounting of what we did that afternoon?"

"Just tell me what you two did."

"What do you think I did with a beautiful blonde in my apartment, Slacks? Do you really want the details?"

"Yes, I really want the details."

Tony leaned forward and contemplated his answer. His goal: make Slacks regret he asked. "Okay, since you asked, I'll tell you. I took her to my apartment where I offered her something to drink. When I returned from the kitchen, she was standing in my living room, stark raving naked. Now picture this, Slacks, five feet nine inches of sheer femininity. Measurements: 38, 24, 36." Tony closed his eyes, remembering her body. He lowered his voice and continued, "It became obvious that she wasn't interested in anything to drink. While I stared in awe of her, she came towards me and had but one thing on her mind. She ripped my shirt off—I remember because it was a Diamantes and they're hard to come by in the states—and then she—"

"All right!"

"It's okay, Slacks, I don't mind detailing what she did to me. She was very physical…we broke a lamp—"

Sacks closed his folder and stood, "I think I've heard enough. Just so you know, I'll be contacting her to corroborate your story." And he stalked from the room.

Fornell shook his head at the man on the other side of the mirror. "I don't know how you keep him in line, Gibbs."

He smiled because sometimes he didn't know either.

**TBC: Like any author, I love comments, any and all kinds. It helps to keep my writing muse energized. **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Ziva and McGee stood behind Abby as she worked. "What can we do to help?" the Israeli asked.

"You can stay out of my way," Abby said, not trying to be mean.

"I can't believe Tony's being accused of another crime," McGee said.

"At least it's not murder," Ziva said, remembering that the last time the FBI came to investigate Tony it was one of her first cases and she hadn't quite gotten the hang of how NCIS did things.

Abby was retrieving the results on her computer when Fornell, Sacks and Gibbs entered. She preempted his question, "Gibbs! I'm not finished yet. I'm doing things by the book—" she looked slightly embarrassed, "—what I mean is I always do things by the book but with this, I'm being extra careful and making sure nothing gets overlooked."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Abs."

The five waited patiently as she typed on her keyboard and pushed information to the two large plasma screens, "Here's the DNA of the evidence you brought me. According to your report, you found this hair at the scene of the crime, which happened to be the Hay-Adams Hotel in DC where the jewels were being secured. When I run the DNA off it against our database…" she paused to get the program started, "it won't take long—"

She was right, it didn't take three seconds before a match was made, and Anthony DiNozzo's official NCIS photo was displayed.

"How close a match?" Gibbs asked.

"Eighty-four percent."

"Why not a hundred?"

Abby explained, "There could be several reasons. A person's DNA changes over time and circumstances. Tony, whose had the plague and been exposed to radiation, his DNA would be different from when he first started working here."

Sacks said, "So, get a fresh DNA sample from him today."

Abby didn't take orders from random people so she looked to Gibbs for guidance. She got a slight tick of his head.

Fornell added, "My superiors don't care the level of the match, the fact of the matter is an eighty-four percent match is still too high to ignore."

"Maybe not," Gibbs said. His mind was turned into high gear and he was willing Abby to read it.

Her brain finally got to where his was and she smiled, "Maybe not, is right. Maybe this belongs to a family member. That better explains why it's only an eighty-percent match."

"Eighty-four, to be exact," Fornell replied, but he had already done his homework and answered, "Agent DiNozzo is an only child. His mother has long since passed and his father has never stayed at the Hay-Adams Hotel. And to my knowledge, he's never even been there. Anyway, Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. has an air tight alibi for the day the jewels were stolen."

There was an ominous silence as the noose closed tighter and tighter around Tony's neck. Ziva asked, "So if he did it, where are the jewels?"

Fornell had been waiting for that question and he deferred it to his underling, perhaps humbling him a little, but Sacks was too smart to admit they didn't know; instead he simply answered, "We have a warrant to search his apartment and NCIS.

Chapter 4

Tony leaned against the window sill, watching Sacks turn his desk inside out. He hadn't reached the anger stage because he was still too stunned at being accused of a jewel heist. "Hey, Slacks?" he yelled across the room. "How much am I being accused of stealing?"

The FBI agent chose to ignore the question, but Fornell and Gibbs were walking down the hallway towards him and Fornell answered, "2.5 million dollars in gold, diamonds and rare gems."

"Who'd they belong to?"

"The Prince of Bhutan."

Tony cocked his head, exasperated, "There are hundreds of princes in Bhutan."

"Does it really matter which one it is?" Fornell said. He turned to his agent and said, "We've finished our search of his apartment; are we done searching here?"

Begrudgingly, Sacks said, "Yeah, I'm done. Did they find anything at his place?" he asked, hopeful.

Fornell shook his head, and Tony pushed off the sill and said, "Of course they didn't find anything _because there is nothing to find_!"

Gibbs pulled Fornell aside and asked, "Now what?"

"We have to take him into custody. With this sort of crime, he's a flight risk."

"I'll take him home with me."

Fornell didn't care one way or the other, but listening to Sacks whine the entire way back to the office was not high on his agenda. "Okay, but I just have to do one thing first." He walked back over to the bullpen and, looking gloomy, he nodded to his agent.

Sacks smiled and reached in his pocket, mumbling, "With pleasure." He took out his cuffs and snapped one quickly around Tony's wrist. Pulling his other arm behind his back, he said, "We have to take you into custody, Agent DiNozzo."

"Wait a minute! You don't have anything but one test!"

"Yeah, but it's a good test," Sacks said, smiling and squeezing the bracelets too tight.

"Really? You call that a good test! It might put me on the team, but it doesn't single me out as the thief!"

Fornell pursed his lips and looked at his agent. "He's right, you know. You take him into custody and something turns up wrong with the one piece of evidence that we do have, and you know what they'll do to us."

Sacks hesitated, because he knew. The Bureau was on a quest to lower the number of wrongful detentions and he shuddered to think what would happen if they ended up being mistaken. But he wanted to take this SOB in so bad he could taste it.

Tony looked back over his shoulder and added, "And you know our forensics' scientist is down there right now trying to find holes in your theory, and if anyone can do it, she can. I wouldn't want to be you when that happens, Slacks!"

Ziva and McGee watched the standoff, wondering why Gibbs remained silent but maintained the smallest of smirks.

"He's a flight risk, Sir," Sacks argued. "He can tuck the jewels and run."

"Again, Slacks, really?" Tony countered. "A flight risk? If the theft occurred a week ago why am I still hanging around? If I had done it, I'd have been long gone by now."

Fornell turned slowly and looked at his counterpart. Acting like this was a new and original thought, he asked, "You take responsibility for him?"

Gibbs nodded.

Slacks took another thirty seconds before he unlocked the cuffs. Tony rubbed his wrists and glared down on the shorter agent. "Thanks for being so gentle."

"You'd make me a happy man if you did take off, DiNozzo. I'd have you on the FBI's Ten Most Wanted before nightfall."

Fornell and Gibbs held a short private conversation and then Tony watched his nemesis board the elevator and leave. Gibbs looked at Tony and said, "Sit. Clean up your desk. Ziva, get me the details of the heist. McGee, get me an inventory of what was stolen."

"On it."

**TBC - Thanks for all the comments! It helps keep me going. Glad everyone is enjoying it so far. I particularly like writing this story and have a good idea where I want it to go. **


	3. Chapter 3

_**Again, thanks to all the readers who took the time comment! It really does keep me going. **_

_**Just in case you were wondering: Some of you may have noticed that there are two or more chapters for every one chapter published. I haven't synced up the two b/c I don't compose my stories on the site but rather in Word. Although easier than years ago, it's still cumbersome to post stories to (IMO) so I try to put as much as possible in a posted chapter without forcing even the smallest of rewrites on my part. Hope you enjoy. **_

Chapter 5

Tony put his desk back together and started his own investigation into the crime he had allegedly committed. He learned that the equipment used to break into the vaulted room was specialized and custom made, and he learned that the plan was ingenious. There was only one weakness in security, and whoever did it, knew what that one weakness was and exploited it, big time.

He studied a picture of the jewels. How much did he say was taken? 2.5 million? What he could do with that kind of money…

"You could start a new life."

Tony startled at the sound of his Director's voice. He clicked off the screen and looked up, "Yeah, I suppose I could. Just one problem: I didn't steal anything."

"I just got off the phone with the Director of the FBI. He's worried that you might pull a Houdini."

"Then I'd be admitting guilt, and I didn't commit any crime."

Vance already knew the story of the heist, but for some reason, he wanted to look his agent in the eye. "Keep your nose clean, Agent DiNozzo."

Tony watched him walk away and wondered where everyone was. No doubt they were conferring on his guilt or innocence. He was glad that he had this time alone and since he wasn't working any other cases, it meant he could travel down any path in pursuit of justice. His justice. He chose the path that lead straight to his father.

Ziva, McGee, Abby and Gibbs surrounded the table in Abby's lab. "We need to see the other evidence that the FBI has in this case," Gibbs stated.

The words were simple; yet the request was anything but.

"Well," McGee started, "I could hack into their database and see what they have?"

"I might be able to call over and ask?" Ziva offered.

Gibbs shook his head; none of those ideas was going to get him what he wanted. He waited until one of them figured it out, and then had the guts to verbalize it. It was McGee who got there first, "I think what you want is for us to actually see with our own eyes the evidence they have in this case."

'Now you're talking,' Gibbs thought.

"So, which one of us breaks into the FBI and steals it?" McGee put it out there, hoping Gibbs wouldn't look at him.

'Not exactly what I had in mind, but close enough,' Gibbs thought. He stared at his two agents, who seemed to be staring at each other. Ziva pointed out the obvious, "If Tony were here, he'd do it in a heartbeat and probably get away with it."

"I'm not asking Tony to do it," Gibbs said. "I'm asking one of my agents."

"I'll do it!"

Surprised, they looked at the Goth, her eyes big and her arm raised. McGee objected, "I don't really think this is something you can do, Abby."

"Why, McGee? Because I'm not an official NCIS agent like you?"

"No! That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"It's the F-B-I," he articulated. "If you get caught, you could get into some serious trouble." He then added reluctantly, "I should do it."

"Well," Ziva interrupted, "breaking into the FBI is not something either of you is trained to do. However, I am. I will do it, Gibbs. The most they can do is send me back to Israel."

Abby countered, "I know what I'm looking for and I can ask all the right questions. Also, I happen to know someone who works in the lab there. He's a friend of mine… well, not exactly a friend, but he'd like to be a friend of mine and I think if I asked him nicely, he'd be more than willing to help."

Gibbs looked at Abby and smiled. "I'll drive you over. Be ready in an hour." While leaving, he said over his shoulder, "Ziva, sit on DiNozzo; don't let him leave the building."

Gibbs walked into Autopsy and found Ducky hovering over his desk and Palmer stitching up a corpse. "Ah, Jethro, I've been waiting for your visit." He looked at his assistance and without saying a word, managed to communicate their need for privacy.

"I'll be cleaning some pipettes in the back room if you need me, Doctor," Palmer said, pushing the small cart through the stainless steel door.

They waited for it to close before Ducky said, "It's all over NCIS. Is Anthony really being accused of stealing the jewels in last month's heist?"

"It appears that way."

"And you've come down here wanting to know if he could do such a thing."

Gibbs shifted from foot to foot. For some reason, it sounded bad when he heard his thoughts verbalized.

"The mere fact that you're here suggests that you don't trust your own judgment, which is another conversation all together. But, back to Anthony: could he have pulled off the largest jewel heist this country has ever seen?" Ducky closed his book and leaned his arm on his desk, "You and I both know that answer. Our Anthony most certainly is capable. He's bright enough, gutsy enough, and given the right amount of motivation, ambitious enough."

Gibbs exhaled, visibly saddened by the dialogue.

"However, Anthony has a deep personal code that only appears loosely quilted together on the outside, but on the inside, his moral fabric is second only to you, Jethro. So you must ask yourself this question. Are _you_ capable of pulling off such a crime? Therein lays the answer."

Gibbs thanked the doctor in his silent way and left. On the elevator, he clasped his hands behind his head and looked up, as if asking for some guidance because the answer to that question didn't bode well for his agent.

Chapter 6

"What are you doing?" Ziva asked.

"I'm tracking down my father. Maybe he can shed some light on this."

McGee offered some words of encouragement, "That's a good idea, Tony. It may be nice talking to him again."

Tony hung up his phone, exasperated. "He's out of the country, as usual. His secretary doesn't know when he'll be back." Tony thought about another avenue but he'd rather make that call from his car. "I'll be right back."

Ziva jumped in front of him and demanded, "Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to my car."

Ziva stood her ground. "Gibbs told me to watch you and that's what I'm doing."

"Actually, Ziva," McGee said, "he told you to sit on him."

"I like the sound of that," Tony oozed. "Your desk or mine?" He almost flinched under her glare. Not wanting to tangle with a woman who had demonstrated on numerous occasions a penchant for hospitalizing people, he returned to his desk, wondering just how he was going to shake these two.

Gibbs sat in his car two blocks down from the Hoover Building. He'd been sitting there for almost forty-five minutes when the passenger door swung open and Abby flopped down. "Wow," was all she said.

"How'd it go?"

"Well, they don't have one forensics lab, they have three! And each one is twice the size of my lab with equipment that I've only ever seen in magazines. Gibbs, we have got to upgrade my lab."

"How'd it go with the evidence?"

"Oh, that went fine. I was able to look at everything. I've got pictures of everything too."

The entire way back to NCIS, Abby talked about their laboratories. Gibbs didn't mind—as long as she didn't require any answers, it gave him time to think about this latest dilemma. He dropped her off at her lab and went to find Tony. He found all three if his agents staring at the plasma screen.

"What'd ya got?"

Before them appeared amazing pictures of rubies, opals, sapphires, and diamonds. These were the official photos of the priceless gems. Their beauty was mesmerizing. Vance walked up behind them, stared a moment at the sparkling rocks, and said, "I just got a call from SECNAV. Seems the FBI director wasn't happy with my answer and he took it up the chain of command. Evidently the Ambassador from Bhutan heard we had a suspect and is wondering why that suspect isn't in custody."

Tony listened to him talk, wondering when the bomb was going to drop and he'd be turned over to the FBI and shoved into a small 8 x 10 holding tank.

"What'd you tell him?" Gibbs asked.

"I told him we were working the case, like any other case, and if the facts necessitate a detention, he'll be the first to know."

Sometimes the Director could be an ally. Tony's phone rang and he almost didn't take it but at the last minute he looked at the number. "Dad? Where are you?"

The others listened as he walked back to his desk. "Listen, Dad, I'm in a little hot water right now. I'm being accused of stealing $2.5 million worth of jewels from a Bhutanian prince. Just as a long shot, you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

He listened, but for some reason, his father wasn't making sense. "Dad! What are talking about?" He listened some more, still not understanding what his dad was saying. Finally he stared at the small screen when he realized they'd been disconnected.

"What did he say?" Ziva asked.

It took Tony a moment before he responded, "I'm not sure."

Gibbs stared at him until he was interrupted by his own phone ringing. He listened, then said, "Abby has something."

The team, sans their director, arrived in her lab. "Gibbs! I found something unusual. Do you see this metal ratchet tie-down?" She put an image of it on her plasma. "This was left behind."

"Yeah? So?"

"So, it's designed to lower objects from the ceiling. Think Mission Impossible."

"Okay…"

"From a photo, you can't tell its weight, but having seen it with my own eyes, I was able to match it to the manufacturer. This is a T2008C120 tie-down, manufactured by Lieings Corporation in Colorado. It's designed to hold a maximum weight of 120 pounds. Their theory is that Tony dangled from the ceiling and used a laser to open the vault. But this would never have held Tony's weight."

"They'll just say he had an accomplice," Ziva said.

"Except there's no evidence of this being more than a one-man job. They are convinced, through video surveillance and eye witness accounts, that only one person pulled off this heist."

"So how can Tony's DNA be left at the scene of a crime that he couldn't have possibly committed?"

She shrugged, "I'm still working on that part. When I figure it out, I'll let you know." If nothing else, it was food for thought.

**TBC – Oohhh, I've already started my next chapter and it's getting really fun to write, which means some questions are getting answered! Hope you're enjoying it!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 7

"I'm not a flight risk, Boss."

"I know."

Realizing the conversation had died in less than ten words, Tony looked around. What in the hell was he going to do in a basement full of wood and sawdust?

Drink.

He dug around behind the turpentine and paint strippers until he found what he was looking for: an almost full bottle of Jack Daniels. Nice. He grabbed two jars, blew in each, and poured. He downed his glass before his boss even realized he had one waiting. Two more were slung back before he began to wonder how many it would take to numb his brain.

"Take it easy there, DiNozzo."

"Why?"

Gibbs studied him. He liked to study his agents, and in particular this one. There were times when he would sit at his desk and covertly watch him work. Sometimes, he thought he could actually see his brain synapses making connections and coming to conclusions right before his very eyes. And now was no different. He may have had a couple of drinks in him, but he was still one of the most interesting people to watch.

"I don't get it," Tony started. "Why is it always me? Why is it that I'm always the one that has to come up with an alibi? Why can't it be McGee? He's smarter than me. Or Ziva? She's … well…Ziva. What's your rule again, Boss? If you think they're out to get you, they probably are?"

Gibbs put down his tool and gave his senior agent his full attention. A guy like Tony had to be handled. He may not realize that's what was happening, but he was being allowed to vent because if he weren't, a guy like Tony could become unpredictable, a flight risk if he felt backed into a corner, or worse.

"I read the report, Boss. I know what time the heist took place and I know what time Brianne left my apartment. Once Slacks puts it together, he's gonna steamroll me." Tony poured another shot and downed it. After the burning sensation eased, he began again, "The sad part is I don't have any jewels. It'd be one thing if I did, but I don't. How do you break into a vault like that anyways? Between you and me, I've always wanted to know if I could do something like that," he reluctantly admitted. "You know, walk on the other side of the law for a change, but I would never actually try such a caper."

Gibbs cocked his head at the admission.

"What's the use? He's out to get me, Gibbs, and unless I can prove I didn't do it, I think they could present a pretty convincing case that I did. DNA evidence and no alibi? —Great, Tony, you've screwed up again." He downed one more shot of whiskey and winced at it going down. "Where do you want me to sleep?"

Gibbs could see his pupils dilate. "Pick a room."

Tony moved slowly, his head reeling from the alcohol. He probably could have done without that last shot, especially since he was drinking on an empty stomach. He ascended the stairs, walked down the hall, and stumbled up one more flight to the bedrooms. He tried the first door he came to and, not expecting it to be locked, he slammed into it, damn near breaking his nose. Door number three was the magic door and he opened it wide; he wasn't even sure whose room it was, but at this point, he really didn't care. For all he knew it could have been Gibbs' room. He only bothered to take off his tie and dress shirt before he fell back on the mattress knowing that slumber was going to be anything but blissful.

Gibbs stayed up another couple of hours, working on his boat and running the events of the case through his head. If Tony couldn't come up with an alibi, an eighty-percent match was more than enough to convict him. But why wasn't the match a hundred percent? That kept niggling at his brain. At eighty, you'd think of an identical twin, but Tony's an only child. When Abby ran the evidence against a current hair sample of Tony's, the match was even lower, barely, but lower, at eighty-one percent. What does that mean?

Gibbs eventually made his way upstairs to the sofa. He sat a moment before deciding to stroll to the second floor and check on his house guest. Tony had managed to find the right room but he was still mostly clothed and still wearing his shoes. Quietly, he pulled each one off and swung his legs up and over. He stared another moment, then took his shoes and closed the door behind him. "Can't be too careful," he mumbled, feeling guilty for taking them. The soft leather felt like butter on his hands, and he thought it no wonder that Tony likes these shoes so much. He returned to his living room where he set the pair of Ferragamos next to the chair and then took up his usual prone position on the couch.

It wasn't quite four in the morning when he heard footsteps. Gibbs lay silently, feigning sleep. He didn't need eyes to know the person walking around his living room was wearing hard soled shoes, eliminating Tony as the possible intruder. He slid his hand between the cushions and found the cold hard steel of a small caliber hand-gun. Withdrawing it slowly he opened one eye.

"Hello."

Gibbs recognized the voice before he recognized the person. "Mr. DiNozzo?"

"Yes, but please, call me Tony, or Anthony, or Senior, just not Mister."

Gibbs sat up and rubbed a hand down his face, suppressing a yawn along the way. "So Tony gets it honestly."

Anthony DiNozzo, Sr. smiled ruefully, and then asked, "I bet you're wondering what I'm doing in your living room?"

"No. I know it has something to do with your son."

"You're right about that." After an awkward pause, he said, "May I sit down?"

Gibbs nodded with his head and stood, trying to get his joints to work and make his legs move. After making a pit stop, he returned with two cups of black coffee and handed one over.

"Thanks. It's been a long night."

"So what's on your mind?"

Senior took a sip, letting it slide down his throat, and deliberately considering his opening statement to a man he didn't particularly care for, but respected. "This isn't easy for me."

"Just start at the beginning."

He lowered his coffee mug and slowly began: "When Tony called, I was away, closing a deal in the Cayman Islands. I just happened to call into the office and get the message that he had called asking about a major jewelry heist. I had heard about the DC heist even before it made national headlines…" He pulled a small newspaper clipping from his wallet and handed it over. "And I knew this day had finally come."

Gibbs furrowed his brow at the last comment, feeling impatient, but at the same time, not sure he wanted him to continue. He took the article and read the headlines, "Cat Burglar Strikes Again."

"I tried to tell Tony what I knew when I called him back, but I couldn't get the words out. I knew I wasn't making any sense." Mr. DiNozzo stopped, overcome with emotion which he was quick to control. "Like I said, this isn't easy."

"Take your time," Gibbs muttered before he could stop himself.

"If you don't mind my asking, what evidence do they have against Tony?"

"DNA match."

"Oh."

"Can you tell me why there's a DNA match between a crime scene and one of my agents?"

"Yes, I… I think I can." He took another sip of coffee, formulating his words. "I have to take you back a ways… a long ways back, actually, in order for you to understand. It all started about six months after Elizabeth and I were married. It was about that time that I went on a business trip to California. While I was having drinks in the hotel bar, I was approached by a young lady; a spectacularly beautiful young lady who happened to be Italian. We enjoyed a late dinner, some easy conversation, and eventually we went back to my room.

"I know what you're thinking, Agent Gibbs, but… promiscuity is a lifestyle choice, one that I've come to enjoy over the years. As much as I tried to be faithful, it isn't in my blood. Elizabeth knew about my indiscretions but she chose to either ignore them or pretend they didn't exist, whatever the reason, she never said anything to me, and I never flaunted another women in front of her or made her feel less of a wife. And to be fair to Elizabeth, she was, and still is, the only woman I ever loved.

"What does this have to do with Tony?"

"Dolcita, my Italian beauty, and I embarked on a three year long relationship. She accompanied me on my business trips and I took her to some of the most exotic places in the world. She was accepted among my colleagues as they themselves, respected businessmen from around the country, also took their mistresses on their business trips, leaving their wives behind to take care of the children and household affairs.

Gibbs sipped on his coffee, wondering if it was possible to loathe this man more than he already did.

"My wife, Elizabeth, and I had been trying to have a baby for several years, but it wasn't happening. She eventually got tested and we learned that she had a rare genetic disorder that all but made her barren. She dealt with it by diving into her charity work." He paused long enough to observe his listener's expression. "To be honest, Gibbs, Elizabeth was always my first choice to accompany me on my business trips, but she would more often decline than accept. I may be a cad, but I never treated my wife with anything but the upmost respect. I loved her very much, and she loved me, which is why I think she let me be who I am.

After saying his peace, Senior leaned back in his chair and continued, "It was during the winter when my life turned upside down. Dolcita and I were in Bangkok, eating dinner when she told me the news. She told me she was pregnant. At first, I didn't believe it could be mine, but I knew better. I suggested an abortion, but she was against it. I offered to put her up anywhere in the world, but she declined. I even suggested that she put the baby up for adoption. I told her to name her price, that money was no object and she could have whatever she wanted. She smiled at all my suggestions, dismissing each and everyone with just a shrug. Eventually, she took my hand and said she didn't need my money. I thought she wanted to end our relationship and raise the baby by herself, but she didn't want to do that either. Finally, when I had exhausted all possible solutions, she asked me a very strange question. She asked if Elizabeth and I would take the baby and raise it as our own.

"The entire request was absurd, Gibbs! I wasn't about to hurt Elizabeth with this sort of news and for the first time in my life, I was at a loss for what to do. I felt myself getting angry at Dolcie. Like I said, the entire request was absolutely ridiculous. At least until she told me why: A baby would interfere with her career."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows and Senior noticed. "That's what I asked: what career? To my knowledge she never did anything but look beautiful and accompany me on business trips. Little did I know…

"That night, she told me everything. She told me what she did for a living. She's a thief. I mean a world class professional thief. She told me about the time she stole an original Picasso while we were in Barcelona; she told me about stealing an artifact from the Tsar's collection while we were in St. Petersburg; a vase from the Ming Dynasty while we were in Beijing. The list goes on and on, Gibbs. I started recollecting all my business trips with her and soon discovered that wherever we went, a major theft occurred. I was her perfect cover as no one suspected us. The thefts were always done during a cocktail party or while we were sleeping so she always had an alibi; not that anyone came accusing, but if they had, she had it covered."

Gibbs had to force himself to blink. The story was almost too fantastic to believe but definitely not one that could have been fabricated.

Senior fumbled around inside his wallet and pulled out several other newspaper clippings and set them on the table. "I had my secretary research the thefts and everything she said was true. I should have guessed something was going on when she never asked me for money and she always seemed to be wearing new designer outfits and expensive jewelry every time we were together. When I would admire her wardrobe and inquire about affording it, she'd just brush me off with a little laugh and say she came from a wealthy family. And I had no reason to doubt her."

Senior became pensive, lost in thought, staring off into the distance, so Gibbs gently nudged him on, "What'd you do?"

Senior blinked, leaving that far off place in favor of the present. "Well, one evening I admitted everything to Elizabeth—well, almost everything, I didn't mention Dolcita's preferred profession. But I did tell her about how we met, the places we went, how long we'd known each other, and even her pregnancy. I was mentally prepared for Elizabeth to ask for a divorce and kick me out of the house right there on the spot." He paused remembering that period of his life. "You know, I've closed deals with very powerful men, and I've entertained heads of state, but I've never been more nervous than I was that night talking to her about adopting a baby that I'd managed to create with my mistress."

"How'd she take the news?"

Senior raised his brows and lifted his shoulders. "Like she hadn't heard a word I said. She kissed me good night and rolled over to sleep. I waited for it all to hit her and for her to become maniacal, but that never happened. I took my pillow and went to one of the guest rooms, afraid that when it all sunk in, she'd be inconsolable. I don't know what's worse, Gibbs, reacting violently or having no reaction whatsoever? I think having no reaction is worse because I had no idea how to move forward.

"Anyway, she came to me the next morning with one simple question: 'Does Dolcita want to be a part of the baby's life?' I told her no; Dolcita only wanted the child to have a good life, to have loving parents." Senior leaned forward and stared Gibbs right in the eyes, "That's when she said, 'Okay'."

Gibbs was out of coffee and could sure use another cup, but he didn't dare break Senior's concentration. "So you adopted the baby?"

"No. I was already the baby's father, but Elizabeth wasn't, so she adopted the baby when he was two days old. Dolcita gave birth that summer and true to her word, she never even held him. Instead, she paid cash for her hospital stay and left. I never saw her again."

"And the baby?"

He could barely make eye contact with the federal agent. He answered, "The baby grew up to be your agent."

Gibbs shook his head. He'd heard some pretty unbelievable stories in his lifetime, but this one takes the cake. He put the pieces together in his head and finally said, "So Tony's biological mother is not the same mother who raised him?"

"That's right."

"Does Tony know?"

"No."

"But Tony's biological mother is a professional thief."

"Not just a professional thief, Gibbs, but a world class cat burglar."

Gibbs thought about the story and eventually formulated a question, "So, you'd like me to believe that the hair found at the crime scene isn't Tony's, but his biological mother's? Nice try, but DNA can determine the sex, and the sex of the hair left behind was male."

Senior looked down into his coffee and said, "There's more to my story."

Gibbs hardened his lips and wondered what more could be told.

"One of the nurses in the nursery told me that just before Dolcita left, she had asked for a lock of hair from her son. The nurse thought the request was a strange one but she obliged and cut off a strand and tied a blue ribbon around it, wrapped it in paper and gave it to her."

This caught Gibbs' attention. Now they had something to work with. "Can you get in touch with Dolcita?"

Senior shook his head, "I never saw her again and she never tried to contact us. I thought after Elizabeth died, that she might come back, but she never did."

"Where can we find her?"

Senior pointed to the old newspaper clippings and said, "You can follow her like I've done, but you'll never catch her. She could be anywhere in the world, and most likely is. After she pulls a heist, she goes underground for anywhere from six to twenty-four months, depending on the size of the job, the pursuit, and what's in the future."

Gibbs needed more coffee if he was going to think this one out and stood up, saying, "You want a refill?"

Senior handed his glass over but Gibbs almost dropped it when he saw the figure sitting on the steps. "How long have you been there?" he murmured.

"Long enough," Tony said.

Senior turned around in his chair and saw his son. "How much did you hear?"

"Too much."

"I'm sorry, Junior. I had no idea you were here."

Tony was just trying to wrap his brain around what he'd just heard. It was hard enough to learn that his mother wasn't really his mother, but it was even harder to digest the fact that his biological mother was still alive. The fact that she's a world class thief explains a lot though. It also explains his disdain for his father. He had so many questions about his real mother, but he wasn't sure if his father was the best one to ask. He simply asked, "Can I see those clippings?"

Senior handed them over and Tony began to read each word of every article. Gibbs returned with three mugs and observed his senior field agent.

The word defeated came to mind.

Chapter 8

Fornell stood in front of Gibbs' desk, annoyed, "You think what?"

"I think we're looking for a woman, possibly in her mid to late fifties."

"How'd you manage to go from here to there?"

"Easy, I think your suspect is a woman based on the equipment used. That pulley is only designed to hold a maximum weight of 120 pounds."

Fornell argued, "That just proves he had an accomplice working with him, doing all the heavy work so to speak. DiNozzo was in that room, Jethro, and we have DNA to prove it."

"Where is he?" Sacks demanded, annoyed that the man he had come to arrest wasn't around.

"I dropped him off at his apartment. He'll be in shortly. Ziva, I want you to run down all known addresses on a woman named Dolcita Vochelli. McGee, I want you to pull her records."

"Jethro," Fornell said, wondering what in the hell was going on, "I told you that we wouldn't arrest him yesterday, but we're taking a lot of heat for it. The Bhutan Embassy is making threats, my bosses are breathing down my neck, hell, everyone is asking me why I haven't brought in our number one prime suspect, and I can't give them an answer!"

Gibbs stood up, angered by the lack of vertical thinking on the part of the FBI. "What do you know about that heist?"

Fornell was taken aback by the accusatory tone, "I know that we have DNA linking DiNozzo to it."

"The FBI must be working on half a dozen heists that are all similar. Are you going to tie Tony to all of them?"

"If I can, but right now, I can tie him to one, that's all I need. Then l'll widen my net."

Ziva tuned out the conversation when she was startled by a well dressed woman who stopped in front of her desk and said, "I'm here to see Special Agent Gibbs."

The woman's green eyes were penetrating as her raven hair cascaded over her shoulders and offered a stark contract against her white linen suite. She had a presence about her that made people stop what they were doing and listen, or at the very least, look. She was regal in her appearance and everything about her demeanor commanded respect. Ziva looked sideways and said, "He is there."

The bullpen became eerily silent. The men in the room sensed that she was cool and controlled, yet dangerous, and nobody really wanted to cross her. "Agent Gibbs?" she asked.

"Yes."

"My name is Dolcita Vochelli, and I think you already know why I'm here."

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 9

Sacks, Fornell, and Gibbs stood in the darkened room observing the woman; Ziva and McGee stood behind them while Dornigan guarded the door. She barely moved the entire time she was in the room. She didn't look nervous but her eyes missed nothing, revealing volumes about her nature. It was like she was calculating and recalculating every possible scenario right down to the last possible detail. "Who is she again, Gibbs?" Fornell asked.

"Tony's mother. His biological mother."

Ziva and McGee looked at each other, still trying to comprehend what they had learned, even though they had heard it now twice.

"I'll ask for proof later; right now, what does she have to do with this case?"

"She's your thief."

"You're gonna have to explain that to me, again."

The door opened and in walked three more people: Abby, Ducky and Palmer. Abby asked, "Is it true? We heard rumors that you have the cat burglar in custody?"

Ziva answered, "We have a woman but she has neither admitted nor denied involvement in the jewelry heist."

"I heard she was Tony's mother," Palmer said a tad too joyfully, "which is strange because I thought his mother died when he was a boy."

There was one thing Gibbs didn't need right now, and that was a bunch of comments from untrained people. He glared at them, feeling protective for his agent's privacy.

Ducky recognized the look and said, "Why don't we take are concerns elsewhere."

Sacks was amazed that one three second look was all it took to clear the room of three people. He'd have to practice that.

In the hallway, Abby suggested, "Let's go back to my lab. I have video access to the interrogation rooms. It's not the same as seeing it in person, but it's the best we've got."

Ducky ushered them along because if his gut was right, Jethro would be down trying to find answers to questions he didn't know he had yet.

Upon their exit, Gibbs took that as his cue to begin the interview. He wasn't looking forward to it, so he kept telling himself that she was just an ordinary person, like anybody else with information about a case he was working. But inside, he knew she was so much more.

As he entered the room, his belly fluttered, unveiling a long overdue or deeply suppressed amorous sensation that he hadn't felt in years. Her eyes were acutely aware of his presence and she watched his every move, studying him, assessing him. He got it now. How she was capable of seducing men; even from across the room, he felt the chemistry. If he had eyes in the observation room or Abby's lab, he'd have seen that everyone else felt the sparks as well. This was not his way. He had never used an interrogation room in this way before and he wasn't about to start now.

Squashing all feelings but that of a lead investigator, he sat down opposite her and studied her a long minute. He observed that she never flinched under the scrutiny; in fact, Gibbs was sure she was doing to him what he was doing to her, sizing him up. "Why are you here, Ms. Vochelli?"

"I heard rumors that Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. was being accused of stealing the jewels belonging to Prince Jigme Wangchuk of Bhutan. Is that true?"

Preferring to be one who asked the questions, Gibbs countered, "What can you tell me about that theft?"

"I can tell you that he didn't do it."

"And why is that?"

She didn't answer the question, easily deflecting it in favor of her own, "Why do you think he did?"

Gibbs wasn't sure if volleying back and forth with this woman would produce anything meaningful. She was too smart to fall into one of his traps and they both knew it. Two things were pleasing him at the moment, even if it was only by a small margin. The first was looking at her. She was by any man's measure, a very beautiful female. She and Tony shared some physical attributes, like the shape of their eyes and the color of their hair. Tony even had her smile, the one that was genuine and included her eyes. However, Gibbs suspected most of the similarities to his mother occurred on a cognitive level. The second thing that pleased him was the love she held for her son. He could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice whenever she mentioned his name.

She was too cool and composed to reveal anything she didn't want to, and it was evident to anyone watching. But Gibbs knew there was one way, and one way only, to throw this woman off a beat. He asked, "Would you like to talk to him?"

She froze, not expecting to be asked such a question. Slightly, almost minutely, the controlled façade peeled back a layer. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why? You say he didn't steal the jewels, the FBI says he did. Maybe you could help his defense."

"I'll be long gone before it gets to that point."

Gibbs studied her inflection and asked, "Why don't you want to meet him?"

She looked sad when she responded, "Because some things just shouldn't happen."

"Like being introduced to your own son?"

She barely moved a muscle at his words, but he could tell her brain was working fast and furious. Finally, she leaned forward and whispered, "He doesn't know about me."

"He knows now. His father told him about you this morning."

"Anthony is in town?"

"He was. He left already."

She leaned back again, although she seemed different now. Like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. A glint of hope twinkled behind those green eyes and she asked, "How'd he take the news?"

Gibbs didn't answer. If she wanted to know that, she could find out for herself, in person. He closed his folder and left.

Chapter 10

Tony arrived mid morning to find the bullpen vacant of people. His mind was anything but on his work and he couldn't stop thinking about this newfound knowledge. His mother wasn't really his mother; his father was his father, but the woman who gave birth to him and the woman who raised him were two entirely different people. He felt numb and nauseous, thankful his colleagues were not around to see his confusion. He immediately sat down and started doing a search of the woman his father claimed was his mother. He found nothing on the name Dolcita Vochelli. How could he find nothing? Because if she was who his father said she was, she would be extremely adept at hiding her true identity.

McGee stopped when he saw his colleague at his desk. He half thought, half hoped, that Tony wouldn't come into the office today given the circumstances, but now he was going to come face to face with him. He was never good at hiding his feelings, especially hiding them from him. He suddenly remembered his boss' last orders: Phone him the minute he came in.

"Hey," Tony said, looking up in time to see the computer geek's mouth agape, "where is everybody?"

"They… are… around." He pulled out his phone and texted a message to Ziva.

"What does that mean?" Tony huffed, slowly sensing that McGee knew something.

In the darkened observation room, Ziva read her message, "McGee just sent a text; Tony is at his desk."

Gibbs looked at Fornell and Sacks, almost daring one of them to move. Satisfied they were staying put, he said, "Tell McGee to take Tony to the conference room." Ziva was surprised but sent the message anyways. Gibbs simply said, "I'll be back. Then, we'll put them together."

"Doesn't that break every rule in the handbook," Sacks pointed out.

"Maybe your handbook, not mine."

**************************************8

Tony stood outside the interrogation room with his hand on the door handle. Once he opened it, he could never go back. When Gibbs told him they had a woman claiming to be Dolcita Vochelli in interrogation room 1, he didn't believe it. Standing there now, wanting to go inside but not being able to, he still didn't believe it. Maybe he could study her through the observation glass, but looking over he saw Gibbs blocking that door, his body set. It was this door or nothing. He leaned his forehead against it, debating whether or not to open it. His gut told him to run and never look back. His mind wanted answers. Before he could rationalize his actions, he found himself staring at a woman he'd never seen before, and never even knew existed until a few hours ago.

He finally let the door close behind him, and when that happened, the walls felt like they were closing in on him. Maybe this was a bad idea. He didn't know what to say, or where to begin, or even how to feel. The room was so small that he suddenly realized that he wasn't ready for such an encounter. He didn't have a chance to check his emotions or find out where he stood with his newfound knowledge, and that was a dangerous mix of uncertainty. He instinctively reached back for the doorknob, but her voice stopped him, "Don't leave," she whispered, "please."

He let the first words she'd spoken to him linger in the air as he gazed at her. Her eyes were pleading with him to stay and he watched as she controlled some sort of impulse, like wanting to come to him, touch him, hug him even. He wasn't ready for any of that. He felt himself biting his upper lip, a nervous reaction he'd had since he was a boy. Swallowing, he softly replied, "I don't know why I came here."

She smiled at him, warmly and lovingly. She didn't dare approach him even though she yearned to touch him, comfort him. A mother's instinct. "Do you know who I am?"

He nodded his head; he knew. He saw too much of himself in those green eyes.

"I am the reason you're the prime suspect in a crime."

Tony took a step backwards, not wanting to hear any more. He would have given anything for time to back up one full day and for this to all go away. Biting his lip to keep his composure, he looked away.

Even Sacks felt for a tiny pang for the man. And if he felt like that, he could only imagine what his colleagues were feeling.

Eventually, Tony murmured, "Are you Dolcita Vochelli?"

She nodded, hopeful that he'd find it in his heart to accept the things he could not change. "I am."

He let the answer sink in, and then asked, "Did you know my father?"

"I did. I knew him very well at one time."

"Are you—," he stopped suddenly, then whispered, "Are you my mother?"

She could see the pain in his expression and the last thing she had ever wanted to do was hurt him. She took a step forward but stopped when he took a step backwards. "Tony, there is so much more to this story than a simple yes. You have no idea—"

"—YOU have no idea!" he cut across her words. "You don't come waltzing into my life after years—"

"I am not making a sudden appearance!" she countered. "I've been in your life since the day you were born! The hardest thing I ever did was to give you up, but it was the only thing I could do."

Tony avoided her, keeping his distance as the nervousness permeated his body and his muscles involuntarily took over his arms and legs. "So it's all true. You stole the jewels."

In the small dark and crowded room, Gibbs nodded to the board operator. Sacks objected, "You can't turn off the camera! We may get a confession!"

"It's my interrogation room; I can do whatever I want."

"Then we'll take her to the FBI!" he demanded.

Fornell put a hand on his agent's shoulder and said, "Take it easy. We have a front row seat and I'm not about to miss this."

Dolcita didn't directly answer the question. Instead she folded her hands delicately in front of her and softly said, "Can I tell you a story?" She waited, sensing his anger dissipating by small increments. "Will you sit down?" She asked, seeing his nerves taking over. "Please?" she whispered.

He did, uneasily, his nervous energy making it difficult to remain still.

She sat down across from him and lowered her voice, "Once upon a time there was a baby born into a family of thieves. Not just any thieves, but _world class_ professional thieves. There wasn't anything that they wouldn't steal, or couldn't steal. But the mother knew what kind of a life into which her son was being born. The life had its drawbacks: a life on the run, never putting down roots, and always looking over your shoulder, not to mention always looking for that next big challenge."

"Stop telling me a damn story! Tell me about you! Tell me—" he felt the air leave his lungs, "tell me… why?"

Dolcita glanced at the camera, noticing for the first time the light was out. She had no idea that half a dozen people were hanging onto her every word, but she knew she owed her son an explanation. "I had to give you up, Tony. I'm a thief, like my father before me is a thief, and my grandfather before him is a thief and his father before him was a thief. Don't you see? Everybody in my family steals for a living. It's in our blood and it's a way of life for us. If I had kept you, you'd be stealing along side of me like I stole alongside my father, and he stole alongside his father. The cycle had to be broken and when I was presented with the opportunity to break it, I took it. And I thank God every day for your father and his wife, Elizabeth, who took you and loved you every bit as much as I could. They gave you a life that I never could have given you."

Tony's jaw clenched and unclenched as he listened. "But how could you just give me away?"

"You make it sound like it was an easy thing to do. It wasn't. It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. But what you don't know is that I've never left you. I was there on your first day of school, and I watched you play soccer and baseball, and I watched you graduate from high school, and go on to play basketball for Ohio State, and I watched you make it into the final four in the NCAA tournament. I watched you graduate from college and I saw many of the wonderful times you had in your life. I was also there for the not so wonderful times, like when Elizabeth died, and when you tore up your knee and couldn't go pro, and when Wendy broke off your engagement, and when you almost died from that deadly plague. I was there, Tony. I saw it all. And I have prayed for you every single night of every single day since the day you were born. And I have cried so many times at not being able to hold you, or guide you or show you how much I love you. But I couldn't let you know I was alive. I couldn't ever go there, as much as it pained me, you could never know about me."

Tony stared at her as a single tear threatened to spill over her lid. She was obviously a woman accustomed to being in control, and this was a new experience for her. She swiped at it before resuming her composure, but she couldn't hide the pain on her face or the emptiness in her heart. But none of these conditions assuaged his confusion, and she could see that. "I have something that may explain a lot." She pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket and held it up. "Do you know what this is?"

Tony looked at it and shook his head.

She slowly unfolded the paper and displayed a small wisp of hair. "This is the lock of hair I asked a nurse to give me when you were just one day old. I carry it with me everywhere I go. I've never been without it. It's my way of holding you. A tiny strand must have fallen out on my last job, which is why they came after you. I'm terribly sorry to have been so careless as to let something like this happen."

Tony couldn't even pretend he understood what she had done, but he knew one thing for certain. She had just admitted to stealing the jewels, and if Fornell and Sacks were watching, which he'd bet his last dollar they were, she would be escorted from the premises and locked up for the rest of her life and he'd never see her again. His pent up energy got the better of him and paced to the corner of the room.

She looked longingly at him. The subtle lines of aging around her eyes served her well and now he saw her again, for the first time. She wasn't just a woman sitting there, articulate and vulnerable, she was a mother. She was his mother, and he suspected she had just given it all up for him. Something only a mother would do. He may not be able to understand it, and he may never get to the point of accepting it, but right now, he felt a connection to her that he'd never felt with anyone else. He had no choice but to open his arms and give her the embrace she'd waited decades to get.

"There it is, Jethro," Fornell said. "She just admitted to being the cat burglar. We're going to have to arrest her."

Gibbs worried more about Tony than he did about the woman. Every thief knows his time is limited, but not every child accepts the fate of a parent.

Ducky put an arm around Abby having seen a tear glisten down the side of her face. Even Ziva turned away, thankful for the darkened room, and wiped away a tear.

**TBC: Thanks for all the encouraging comments. I'm trying to wrap the story up since I'm on a personal quest to write more succinct stories. **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 12

Ziva sat quietly behind her desk, lost in thought. The encounter between Tony and his mother felt surreal, and she saw a side of her partner that tore at her heart. She had spent the last hour getting to know the woman named Dolcita Vochelli better. She began by reading about the Picasso heist, and learned just how expertly planned and executed the caper had been. She continued to read about the other heists and discovered that for each major theft, the plan was meticulous and flawless. If it hadn't been for her son, Dolcita Vochelli would still be anonymous.

McGee glanced over at Tony's empty desk. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like to witness your own mother being handcuffed and escorted away by federal agents. But then, he couldn't imagine his mother being some master thief either. But what was most unsettling was the expression on Tony's face as his mother was being taken away. It unnerved him and made him steer clear of the man. Sometimes DiNozzo's look rivaled that of his boss, and it was at those times that he consciously avoided him. It didn't stop him from feeling for him though.

He caught Abby and Ducky getting off the elevator and watched them. He figured it was Abby's idea to visit and that Ducky was most likely with her for moral support. Ducky asked, "Where is Anthony?"

"He left right after they took—" McGee stopped short, unsure of how to refer to the woman. He finished by saying, "—after they took Ms. Vochelli away."

"Timothy," Ducky said, "it's okay to refer to her as Tony's mother. After all, that is who she is."

Gibbs sighed, looked up from his desk and made eye contact with Abby.

She explained, "We just wanted to make sure Tony is okay, but I can see he's not even here, so it's a moot point."

Ducky patted her hand, encouraging her.

She continued, "It must be hard to connect with a mother you never knew you had only to have her taken away again."

Gibbs considered the remark, and then considered the source. Abby's heart was heavy and she wouldn't be back to her old self until she had hugged Tony and could see for herself that he was going to be fine. Before he could tell them to go back to work, Tony exited the elevator and walked briskly to his desk. Sitting down, he became acutely aware of the eyes on him. "I'm fine," he said, barely looking at his colleagues. "If I need a shoulder to cry on, I'll be sure to contact someone."

Gibbs noticed that he looked relaxed, and considering what he'd just been through, it seemed somewhat at odds with circumstances. "Tony?"

"Boss?"

"You shouldn't be here. You should go home, take some time." _Maybe contact your father again_ is what he thought.

"I'm bored at home and I don't need the rest. I've got cases that I can work and I'd rather be doing something than nothing."

Gibbs stared at his agent, wondering where the lines of anguish that had earlier creased his forehead had gone. And Ziva narrowed her eyes; _was Tony… smiling?_ There was something different about him, and even McGee, who just minutes earlier wanted to avoid the man, felt an aura of acceptance emanating from the agent. The easiness of the moment didn't last. Sacks and Fornell came busting off the elevator and it was evident that Sacks was fit to be tied.

Tony looked up in time to see his nemesis bearing down on him and only had time to put his hands up before his lapels were roughly grabbed and he was yanked out of his seat and thrown backwards against his credenza. FBI Agent Ron Sacks sneered, "Where is she?"

Tony spread his arms wide and shook his head, "What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. Dolcita Vochelli—your MOTHER—is gone! And you helped her!"

Gibbs, McGee and Ziva were closing in fast but it was Fornell who was prying his agent off the larger man. "Agent Sacks, back off before you get into some serious trouble!"

"Yeah," Tony added, "attacking a fellow federal agent never sits well with the brass."

Sacks shoved Tony backwards and shrugged his boss off his shoulder. Pointing a finger, "I'm telling you, Fornell, he helped her escape!"

Gibbs stepped in and said, "What's all this about?"

After he was sure his agent could contain himself, Fornell answered, "We escorted Ms. Vochelli back to our building and we were waiting for the booking agent to process her. She asked to use the ladies room and that's the last we saw of her."

"That's gotta hurt," Gibbs said, suppressing a smile.

"You have no idea how much," Fornell replied.

"Well, how'd she do it?"

"She asked to use the ladies room," Fornell answered, shooting his subordinate a how-stupid-are-you look, to which Agent Ron Sacks embarrassingly looked away. "From there, she somehow got out of her handcuffs, traded her outfit for a custodian's uniform, and walked out of the Hoover building like she hadn't a care in the world. She then got into a dark sedan driven by a man whose physical description oddly matches Agent DiNozzo's, and then they disappeared."

Sacks angrily sneered, "Where is she! If you can't prove where you've been the past two hours—!"

"That's right, Slacks!" Tony snapped, "Go there with me again. This makes the third time you've gone after me for a crime I didn't commit! This may surprise you, but I know something about the inner workings of the Bureau, and if there's one thing it despises more than false detainments, it's harassment. And I don't care whose book you're reading, this constitutes harassment!"

Fornell stepped in front of the two agents to prevent an all out brawl from occurring. DiNozzo was right on that score. He pushed his agent back and said, "Go wait for me in the car, Ron."

"But—"

"—I said to wait for me in the car. Go."

Sacks glared at DiNozzo and mumbled, "This isn't over." He turned on his heels and left.

Fornell waited for the doors to close before turning and saying, "We will be conducting a thorough investigation and if we discover that you helped her in any way, Agent DiNozzo, we will be back for you." He gave Gibbs a long stare before turning away and leaving.

Tony straightened his suit and tie before sitting back down at his computer. He felt the eyes on him again and he grudgingly said, "What, now?"

Nobody had the nerve to ask. Partly because they knew he couldn't admit to anything and partly because they didn't want to endure the wrath of Tony's tongue, which could be sharp and cutting when he needed it to be.

He looked at each and every one of his colleagues, their mouths open and their eyes begging for answers. He shrugged, giving them an opportunity to speak, but only Gibbs hinted at a smile. He knew. And Tony knew he knew.

Finally, Abby said, "There's always way more excitement up here than there is in my lab."

Tony winked at her, knowing that would be as good as a hug at least until she cornered him in her lab. He then proceeded to ignore their stares and returned to his computer. His eyes relaxed and his lips hinted at a smile as he sat remembering how he had pressed Sack's key into his mother's hand the first time he hugged her, and how he had been able to orchestrate her great escape with a few whispered words. But mostly he smiled because he found some peace in something his mother had said: "…what you don't know is that I've never left you." In the short time they had together, she made him a promise. She would be back, but she couldn't set a date. She'd only say when the heat died down, they'd plan a meeting and she'd answer all his questions.

And that was good enough for him.

~Fini

**Thank you to everyone who gave me words of encouragement, praises, and even caught an error or two. I had so many different ways to end my story but this was the only way that felt right, even though I'm asking readers to accept gaping holes. I'm thinking of a sequel that brings Tony and his mother back together, but I'm notoriously slow in writing sequels. Thanks!  
~~Jasmine**


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